


Field Trip

by odiko_ptino



Series: Modern AU [1]
Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Apollo's modern chariot, Erinye, Fluff, Gen, Icarus Tales, M/M, Modern AU, Nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 00:29:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16545302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/odiko_ptino/pseuds/odiko_ptino
Summary: Apollo takes Icarus for a ride in his chariot.





	Field Trip

Apollo learns, from receiving a smug text, that Helios has taken Icarus on a joyride through the space between realms – giving the boy a little thrill as they tore through the inky void on his golden chariot (in the noisy motorcyclical form it takes these days). Presumably, Helios got a snuggle out of it as well, if Icarus was holding onto the god as they flew.

This will not stand.

Apollo arrives promptly at Icarus’ apartment the next day, after the mortal has completed his classes and returned. The boy has enough time to place his heavy book satchel on the table and when he looks up, Apollo is standing there, next to him.

Icarus yelps and squirms away in an amusingly unmanly fashion, but Apollo is not here to wind him up today.

“You’re looking pale, Icarus. I’ve told you before that you lock yourself away indoors too much,” Apollo tells him, disapproval in his voice. He takes Icarus’s arm, firmly, and pulls him back towards the door to his apartment.

“H-hey, wait-!”

“Your Vitamin D levels are dangerously low. It will begin affecting your health negatively soon. It’s because you avoid sunlight,” Apollo lectures. “We’re going to correct this.”

“Wait. You’re saying…” Icarus gives him a flat, disbelieving look as Apollo pulls him through the door. “You’re the sunlight. You’re giving me the D?”

Apollo pauses, closing the door behind them, and looks over at Icarus, and smirks. “Yes. I’m giving you the D.”

Icarus sighs noisily – but Apollo is pleased to note his cheeks have colored a little. “You – can’t just say that-!” Icarus sputters, but Apollo has already turned and begun pulling him down the steps and toward his own chariot, where it’s parked by the side of the road.

“This is your car?” Icarus looks doubtfully at the golden Prius.

“Yes. It’s one of the safest vehicles available, and sensible, as well as stylish.” Apollo lets them in and waits until Icarus has buckled his safety belt before he pulls away from the curb and into the Space Between Worlds.

He doesn’t bother trying to impress Icarus with the view in the heavenly realm – Helios has already beaten him to that. Yet, in spite of the fact that he’s seen it once before, Icarus still seems fascinated with the view outside the Prius’s windows. He peers out, nervous but curious, asking if those are the same constellations he can see from earth.

Apollo confirms that they are, though viewed from the other side. They pass an empty space near Lyra, and Apollo wonders to himself if Icarus’ corpse would look pretty, turned into stars, someday. When the mortal died. Apollo thinks the mortal would make a fetching constellation, but finds he isn’t looking forward to it.

Apollo uses his turn signal and exits the void, pulling out onto a pristine beach of high, rocky cliffs edged in white sand and achingly bluegreen waters.  
Icarus is suitably impressed. He steps out of the car, looking around. “Oh… this place is gorgeous…! Where are we?”

“Galifos. In Greece.” He pronounces both names with the original accent; something he knows is a secret turn-on for the mortal.

As hoped, a faint spot of color appears in both cheeks of Icarus’s face, but he’s too entranced with the view to do more than stare, openmouthed, at his surroundings. “It’s incredible. I – hey?!”

Icarus has apparently just noticed Apollo’s clothes are missing. The spots of red spread wildly over his entire face and neck, and he whips around abruptly, hiding his eyes like the shy child he sometimes is.

“It’s a nude beach, Icarus.” Apollo has had many centuries to become accustomed to the shifting concepts of modesty, as regards nudity; but doesn’t always bother to apply them to himself. He strides past Icarus, only slowing to muss his hair and otherwise doesn’t comment on how endearingly idiotic the human looks. “You’ll need to strip off if you want to join me. And you should. You need as much D as your body can take.”

“There’s no way you don’t know what that sounds like,” Icarus mutters after him, mutinously.

Apollo stretches out on the warm sand, already feeling better for being here, in the open, no other people around but him and Icarus, and the pristine waters and the bright sun in the sky.

It takes Icarus a few minutes to summon his courage to walk over and join him, and he drops ungracefully down onto the sand, still looking embarrassed and annoyed. He’s still mostly-clothed – but he’s removed his shirt, anyway, and his shoes and socks. Apollo’s mildly disappointed, but accepts the compromise.

“I’m not going in the water,” Icarus says, sounding nervous but firm.

Ah, yes. He’d drowned, before. Evidently some things stay etched in the psyche.

“Of course.”

They watch the gulls wheel over the sea, crying out at each other over the sounds of the waves crashing

“Nice, isn’t it,” Apollo comments.

After a moment, Icarus agrees. “Yeah, this place is cool,” he says, looking out at the water. Aside from being too pale, and a little too skinny by Apollo’s standards, and the messy haircut, Icarus’s body is pleasing. Apollo is pleased to see the small signs of the somatosensory stimuli affecting it – the grains of sand, the breeze, the warm sun.


End file.
